


Lies the TV Sold Me

by CarnivalofBrokenDolls (yourrhinestoneeyes)



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M, Love, Romance, Twisted Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7988248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourrhinestoneeyes/pseuds/CarnivalofBrokenDolls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joker loves TV, he almost lives by it as a funny little guide on how to go about his life and career. The only thing TV didn't tell him how to handle was Harley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies the TV Sold Me

The funny little lives that the people on the T.V. lived were so simple. The Joker admired the way they lived their lives; the way a problem occurred suddenly followed by a commercial break that would try to sell a new washer and dryer set at Sears at a discounted price, by the time the show would come back on everything was solved. He had for as long as he could remember enjoyed these shows, specifically the old black and white ones. He enjoyed shows like the Honeymooners, I Love Lucy, and Leave it to Beaver; he liked everything from the canned laughter of the live studio audiences to the disgustingly perfect way the families functioned.

When Harley entered his life he thought this was the perfect time to act like those shows. It seemed so fun and when they lay together in bed watching those old shows she seemed to like them just as much as he did. 

There were times they would be out and she would trigger total chaos that Joker would have to fix, he would hold her face in his hands and threaten her that one of these days she would cross the line, but for the life of him he didn’t know what that meant. Neither of them did, the shows never told them exactly what that was supposed to mean. She would abruptly kiss him and giggle at his surprised reaction to her bold affections; then off they would go covered in blood, walking hand in hand back to their car. The only laughter provided was from the two of them and occasionally from Panda Man, he always found Joker’s jokes to be quite hilarious.

It all seemed so perfect with its falseness; the clothes he wore, his mob boss composure, the car he drove, and his Gucci everything was as false as his teeth. Just shiny and sharp and meant to scare off those who dared approach him, but in reality it was nothing. 

That was the great thing he thought about life, about life when you embraced insanity and the idea that you are nothing and absolutely nobody. When you were nobody then life was whatever you wanted it to be, it could change every week; this was just one big theatrical show to him. There was only one place that it was real…..

There was one thing the shows on TV didn’t prepare him for or show; they didn’t show love. 

The couples on those old TV shows would share simple little kisses when the husband arrived home from his boring office job.

When the Joker kissed Harley it was rarely a simple friendly little kiss. Most times it was her pinned to the hood of the Lamborghini with him between her legs, he would have a firm grip on her throat as they kissed passionately. Other times it was him pinned down against the bed, wrists cuffed and her biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Nothing like TV.

On TV the couples rarely showed affection, occasionally said that they loved each other, and never shared a bed.

With the two of them it was so different, horrifically different; Harley told him how much she loved him as often as she could while he found the word ‘love’ dying in his mouth. He found himself always touching her; he found himself caressing her arms, holding her hand, playing with the rings on her fingers, tracing the heart tattooed on her cheek, playing with her thick locks of white blond hair. He found that when he did sleep it only happened when Harley was in bed with him; she had to be with him for him to sleep. The only way Joker could sleep was if her petite frame was pressed against his body seeking out his warmth and his protection, he held her securely. 

The shows he watched never prepared him for this, for love. 

He didn’t know how to handle it, how to handle her, because she brought out something very insecure and something very real in him. She made him feel better about his metal toothed little smiles, she made him feel weak and made him feel powerful. When they had sex it was spectacular, when they fucked it was primal and rough, and when they made love it made his head light and fuzzy and God how he hated himself for all of this.

These little moments at night they would lay together in bed, he would have one arm wrapped loosely around her shoulders, she had her head resting against his chest, and held onto his hand. They watched the black and white shows on TV; the couple on TV acted so proficient and without passion. While the Joker was laying there with his heart racing in his chest, because everything from the smell of her perfume to her soft skin to her hair tickling his skin drove him insane. He was repulsively in love with this monster of a woman, this violent sex craved loon. 

Not that he would tell her that he loved her, that she made him feel vulnerable, because he knew the moment that he said it she would disappear. She would be stolen away from him just like another person from his past life, he couldn’t handle losing Harley as well. So the word love stayed buried in his heart, from time to time it would come up his throat and into his mouth, but there it would wither and die. For her safety and his own lacking sanity.


End file.
